


The Breath of the Breathless

by ghostboi



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Captive Tony, Inspired by Fanart, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki's a tease, M/M, Non-Con Groping, Non-Consensual Bondage, Possessive Loki, Snarky Tony, bound tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 01:43:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4768865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostboi/pseuds/ghostboi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony's caught between a Cross and an Asgardian<br/>(aka the one where Loki likes to tie up smart-ass billionaires)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Breath of the Breathless

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a gorgeous piece of fanart by Tabbystardust.
> 
> [Title from Razed in Black's "Pursuit"]

“Leave us.”

His minions obeyed the command and scattered from the room like cockroaches subjected to sunlight. He watched as the last one exited, closing the solid steel door behind him, before turning to the only remaining person in the room. 

Tony Stark watched in silence, obviously assessing his situation. He was currently bound to a St. Andrew’s Cross, a structure that resembled in appearance a large X. His wrists and ankles were bound to the wood with thick rope, stretching and displaying his lean form. One of the minions had ripped the shirt from the billionaire during the process of capturing him, and the Arc Reactor in the center of Tony’s chest cast a soft glow. 

Loki approached his captive, his footsteps echoing softly in the large room. He made his own assessment, eyes roaming the bound man and ensuring that he was securely tied. He had mistakenly underestimated Stark before; he wasn’t going to allow himself to do it again. The man was human, yes - especially without his armour of Iron - but he was brilliant and he was cunning. 

He tilted his head slightly, dark hair falling over one shoulder, as his eyes came to rest on the Arc Reactor. It was, he surmised, the reason his staff hadn’t worked on Stark before. He raised his eyes to meet the man’s gaze; a smirk touched his lips as he caught a very brief moment of apprehension in the man’s otherwise calm features. 

Loki raised an elegant brow as Stark quipped with a smirk,  
“You know what they say about taking a picture.”

“Actually,” he moved, graceful, almost catlike, in a circle around his captive, “I don’t. You Midgardians have so many odd expressions, I can’t be bothered to keep up with them all.”

He halted behind Stark – Tony shifted his head slightly, trying to catch sight of him, but the ropes limited his movements. His gaze traveled down the man’s back, taking in the muscled contours, and lower. A smirk touched his own mouth and he moved to finish the circle, halting in front of the billionaire. Their gazes locked, and Tony’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” the man demanded suddenly, “You have big plans, obviously. Do you really believe I’m going to be of any help to you? Because I’m not.”

“I haven’t any doubts of that,” Loki agreed smoothly, a small smile touching his mouth, “Your level of stubbornness rivals that of my brother’s. No, I haven’t any expectations that you’ll comply, Stark. I have other plans for you.” 

He could feel his captive’s gaze follow him as he strode across the room, to a small panel on the wall. He raised a hand and pressed it against a green button in the panel’s center: there was a loud shifting, rumbling kind of sound and, moments later, the ceiling began to part.

Loki’s gaze flicked to the ceiling – the planetarium’s skylight – as it opened to reveal the night skies. A glance in Tony’s direction showed him that the captive was staring at the parting ceiling, as well. He closed his eyes for just a moment as he felt a cool breeze waft through the large room, then opened them to focus on Stark.

Tony’s eyes were still on the rapidly-appearing skies when Loki reached him again. The Midgardian cast him a glance, flicked his gaze to the now-opened ceiling and the revealed skies, shifted back to him. 

“Aren’t you the romantic?” 

The smirk that touched Stark’s mouth, along with the sarcastic comment, sent a bolt of anger through him. Loki raised a hand; a moment later, Stark’s head snapped to the side as the Asgardian backhanded him. The captive man’s eyes shifted back to him as he touched his now-bleeding lip with the tip of his tongue.

“You fail to realize when it is best to be silent,” Loki growled as he circled the bound man. He halted once more behind Stark: after pausing a moment to study the man’s tense stature, he stepped forward.

He felt Stark’s body jerk in surprise as he pressed against the man’s back, and chuckled in amusement. His smile widened as the man pulled uselessly at his ropes, testing their strength. 

His smile faltered, disappeared, as Tony glanced over his shoulder at him and said, “Thor is going to kick your ass when he finds you. Not to mention what the Hulk is going to do to you.” 

Another flinch of surprise, followed by a soft gasp, as he pressed hard against the bound man and tangled fingers in his hair to jerk his head back. He slid a hand up Stark’s side to let it rest beneath his bicep, pressing against his armpit to insinuate his presence and Tony’s helpless position. 

“See your skies, Stark,” he jerked Tony’s head back against, fingers caught in the man’s hair, and forced him to look upward, “Beautiful, aren’t they? Soon enough, I’ll let you watch as I crack them open and decimate your planet before taking control of it.”

He watched Tony’s face, fascinated at the mixture of expressions that flickered across it. Anger; disbelief; arrogance; a trace of fear. 

His words were a breath against Stark’s ear as he murmured, “Will you be so arrogant as you watch all you know and love fall before me?” He smirked in satisfaction as he felt a tremor run through the bound man’s taut body, saw that flicker of fear in his eyes again.  
He tightened his hold on Tony’s dark hair, bringing another barely audible gasp from the man, and murmured, “I think I shall keep you as my trophy. A sign of my victory: the great Iron Man bowing before me.”

“Not gonna happen,” the bravado in Tony’s almost breathless declaration amused him, and he chuckled aloud. Loki allowed his hand to slide slowly down his captive’s side – Tony’s attempt to shy away from his touch was a failed one. He brushed fingers over the billionaire’s ribs, across his chest, to circle the glowing reactor there. He didn’t miss the tremor that ran through the man, pressed against him as he was. 

His hand slid down the man’s taut stomach next, and Tony let out a soft sound of protest. Loki smiled slightly and continued, fingertips brushing the waist of Stark’s jeans. He paused as the other demanded, voice little more than a whisper, “Stop,” his eyes shifting to Tony’s face. The captive was staring at the skies above, apprehension on his handsome features. 

“Ssh,” Loki’s own deep voice was a murmur against the man’s ear, “Be still.” He tightened his grip on the man’s hair as his hand continued its exploration: he pressed his lips against the side of Tony’s neck at the same moment his fingertips reached the man’s groin. The Midgardian’s skin was hot beneath his lips, slightly salty, and he wanted more. His hand resumed its ministrations, rubbing and lightly squeezing, and a sound that was a combination of protest, dismay and need tore from Tony’s throat. 

Loki’s own voice was a soft growl as he murmured, “Mine,” against the human’s throat, nipping lightly against his flesh with his teeth. A hum of approval escaped his own throat as Tony jerked slightly, arching into his hand and tilting his head to expose more of his neck. 

He raised his head and glanced toward the door as he heard distance shouts and the sound of battle. “Your friends,” he murmured, nipping against at the flesh beneath Tony’s ear, “Come to rescue you.” He nipped at the man’s ear and his fingers worked free the button of Tony’s jeans, pushed down the zipper. He slipped a hand beneath the denim material to squeeze the man lightly before leaning in to bite down hard on his neck, hard enough to bruise. The captive moaned – there was no other word for the sound – as Loki marked him with his teeth, and the Asgardian grinned slightly. 

“Mine,” he growled again, giving the man’s hardening shaft, which was now in his hand, several swift strokes. He trailed his tongue up the side of Tony’s neck once more, nipping at his skin a final time, before releasing him suddenly and stepping away.

“I’m sure they’ll be quite curious as to your current state of being,” Loki smirked in amusement as he moved to stand in front of Stark, “I do wish I could remain to hear the explanation. Alas, I must depart. We’ll finish this later.” He reached down to give the man’s groin a final squeeze, before pulling back and moving away. He allowed himself to drink in the sight of arousal and anger and hunger on Stark’s face, before moving away to cross toward the rear of the room and the door there. 

Loki was gone when Thor, Cap and Widow reached the captive Stark, less than two minutes later. They were moving to free him when Natasha caught sight of his state of – distress, and paused. She raised a brow – it took only moments for Steve and Thor to realize, also – and Tony shook his head. “Shut up,” he muttered, averting his gaze, “Don’t ask. Get me off this thing, will you?” 

Natasha cut his ankles free before she stood and reached up and cut loose the ropes holding him to the Cross with one of her knives. Tony started to move away from it, but being bound for several hours had left him without adequate circulation, and he stumbled. Thor caught him as he staggered almost to his knees, and pulled him to stand again. 

“Alright?” the Thunder God questioned, supporting his weight and eyes roaming his features. “Fine,” he muttered, slightly embarrassed (humiliated, truth be told) by his current state and the state in which Loki had left him, “Just need a minute.”

Tony’s eyes flicked to Thor’s face as the man leaned closer to ask, voice teasing, “Are you certain that’s all you need?” He saw Thor’s blue gaze drop to his throat, assessing the marks there, made by Loki’s teeth. He could feel his face flushing – and didn’t that suck, because he, Tony Stark, was rarely ever embarrassed – and he glanced toward Steve and Natasha. The two were halfway across the room at this point, searching for any indication of where Loki had gone or what his presence here meant, and (hopefully) hadn’t heard Thor’s teasing. 

Tony glanced back at Thor, to find the big man grinning down at him. “Shut up, Smiley,” he muttered, though he didn’t protest when Thor took most of his weight as he helped him toward the door.


End file.
